2025 the Remnant
By S.D. Burke
()
About this ebook
Its 2025.
Earthquakes, floods, forest fires, and terror attacks cause people to wonder if these are the end times.
A global America slides into chaos. As a member of the World Federation, America joins One World Finances and the One World Religion. The Bible is outlawed. Christians are persecuted. People are forced to take a number to buy and sell. Those who resist become homeless or are sent to prison for refusing to take the number. Families are divided.
This is twenty-one-year-old Daniel Jordans story, a faith journey, a story of following truth no matter where it leads, a story of love, danger, and adventure.
Daniel and his friend Lydia Cohendeported from the City of Gold as youth senators and imprisoned in the dissident prison at Leavenworthescape through a miracle. Aided by the Christian underground, they make their way to Canada in search of Maranatha Village, a refuge for dissidents. They are now part of the remnantthose who cannot follow the world regime and await the second coming of Christ.
Will Daniel and Lydia be able to start a new life in the village for dissidents? What will happen to the families they leave behind? And the most important question of all: is this the time Jesus will return to the earth?
Join us for Book III in the 2025 trilogy: The Remnant.
S.D. Burke
Sylvia Burke graduated with a BS in nursing from Indiana University. She writes as a nurse, a person who has experienced depression, and a Bible teacher. Her nursing experience in obstetrics and hospice give her a unique perspective to combine with her love of the Bible and belief its counsel is alive today. She states that 2 Corinthians 3 and 4 tell us “to comfort those who like us are hurting with the comfort we have received of God.” Therein lies the purpose of Humpty. Her faith in God as the Great Psychiatrist offers an unusual approach to depression—spirit, mind, and body. Sylvia and her husband, George (fifty-five years), are retired in the Phoenix area and enjoy many travel adventures. They are parents of six and grandparents of eleven. Her hobbies include singing in a choir, teaching Bible studies for women, and taking pictures of sunsets and nature, which she translates into watercolors and quilts. She also is the author of a fiction trilogy: 2025 The Guardian, 2025 City of Gold, and 2025 The Remnant.
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2025 the Remnant - S.D. Burke
Copyright © 2014 S. D. Burke.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV
and New International Version
are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™ All rights reserved.
Scripture quotations taken from the New American Standard Bible®, Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission." (www.Lockman.org)
WestBow Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:
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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
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ISBN: 978-1-4908-3063-6 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4908-3065-0 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4908-3064-3 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014905170
WestBow Press rev. date: 04/18/2014
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
Chapter Fifty-four
Chapter Fifty-five
Chapter Fifty-six
Chapter Fifty-seven
Endnotes
Dedication
T his book is dedicated to all who follow Jesus in the end-times and make sharing faith in Him a priority. You, who do not fear being out of step with the world, but are more concerned with being in step with God.
You are the Remnant!
Acknowledgments
To my faithful editors…
Jodie Burke, my daughter and story editor. Thank you for your patience, time, and energy. You are a wonderful editor and teacher.
Donna Goodrich, who edited the book line by line. You greatly encouraged me.
To our children in Minnesota, Oregon, California, Virginia, and Arizona…Thank you for each book you give to a friend, a pastor, or a co-worker. You are my missionaries.
And to my dear husband George…
Thank you for all the kind words you say telling neighbors and friends about 2025. Your support means a lot.
So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect Him.
(Matt. 24: 44 NIV).
Chapter One
D o you trust him, Danny?
Lydia asked.
Twenty-year-old Daniel Jordan continued untying the ancient fishing boat they’d traded for his Honda motorcycle. How he’d done it Daniel didn’t know, but his father located the safe house nearest to the prison and left his motorcycle there, just in case Daniel ever escaped.
Daniel looked over his shoulder at the grinning man covered with tattoos and wearing a peace earring. No, Lydia,
he muttered. I don’t trust him, but it’s our only chance. We have to get across the Rainey River to Canada and we can’t go through any of the border crossings.
Daniel was right. Thanks to state of the art face and retina recognition, no dissident got through the border. Lydia and Daniel’s prison records would identify them. Aided by the people at Liberty Farm, an underground safe house, they’d left Kansas. The sheriff had warned them to avoid any government border and advised the Rainey River crossing. He’d said despite Lydia’s altered appearance and Daniel’s beard, the retina recognition would set off alarms as soon as they entered.
Lydia gazed at the river, mesmerized by the searchlights crisscrossing the dark waters. Night had fallen. A village for dissidents existed somewhere on the opposite shore. Where they weren’t sure.
Step into the boat, Lydia. I’ll hold it for you.
Lydia hesitated. The bottom of the boat was filled with dirty rainwater. Leaves and bugs floated atop icy water. She shuddered and put her foot in. The cold numbed her but she reminded herself; she was free. And…she’d experienced much worse circumstances at Leavenworth Prison when she and Daniel were exiled from the new capital—The City of Gold. She shook the cobwebs from her mind…no more starving, no more brutal treatment from matrons who’d sheared her hair, no more seeing innocent people die.
Daniel pulled the rip cord on the ancient motor and the small fishing boat started up.
In the distance, they could see government border patrol boats circling. Daniel waited until they’d passed before leaving the shore. He glanced back once more. Would the tattooed boat owner report them to the border patrol? It was a chance they’d have to take—their only chance.
The river was choppy. A nasty wind worked against them as Daniel angled the boat towards a wooded area on the Canadian shore. River water splashed up the sides of the boat chilling their already damp bodies. Daniel concentrated on steering the boat. A beam from the border patrol crossed the boat.
Can they see us with those lights?
asked Lydia.
What could he say? Daniel breathed a prayer for help from their new God. He’d shown Himself as a light to follow out of the prison. He’d covered them with a cloud so the guards couldn’t see their escape. He was alive. He knew. And He seemed to be protecting them.
Before Daniel could answer Lydia, the old boat engine died.
Daniel, we’re drifting right toward the crossing,
Lydia screamed.
Daniel grabbed the weather-beaten oars fastened to the side of the boat and began to row. His muscles strained against the current of the river. A foghorn blast and flashing lights revealed a military border patrol cruiser blocking their way. Hope dashed; they waited for instructions from the patrol.
The guards on the cruiser tied the small fishing craft to their side, then, they transferred the young couple to the cruiser and headed for their patrol center. Do you have any identification?
the officer asked.
Daniel looked at Lydia, seeing stark fear in her eyes. No, sir. No identification.
The cruiser pulled up to a shore building. The two crew members looked Daniel and Lydia over.
You’ll have to come inside.
Seeing the auburn stubble covering Daniel’s face, he continued, We know you are dissidents from your appearance.
Three days of motorcycle travel, camping in a national forest reserve, sleeping on a blanket in the rain, caused their leather jackets to have a foul odor. They had been unable to shower or brush their teeth. Lydia’s dark hair hung in wet ringlets, embedded with debris from riding in the wind. Dark circles surrounded her eyes. Her mouth felt like garbage from swallowing whatever the wind blew their way, and her body sagged from the weight of the wet clothing. She couldn’t feel her feet anymore.
The patrol leader ushered them into the office, picked up a scanner, and ran it over their bodies. Surprised at the results of the scan, he looked up. Escaped from Leavenworth Prison?
Recognition meant return to prison, or worse—depending on the mood of the Prophet and the president.
The officer picked up his communicator. Was he calling the government to remove them? Daniel put his arm around Lydia’s shaking shoulders. After all the harrowing escapes along the journey, to be caught now…
Take a seat. Stay here until I return.
The patrol leader left the office, closing the door behind him.
Oh, Danny, I’m so sad. We almost made it.
Lydia began to cry softly.
Huge waves of guilt drowned Daniel. He was responsible for everything that had happened to Lydia. Both had done excellent work at the Youth Council in the City of Gold. At the formal installation of the Youth Council, Daniel was unable to bow before the golden statue of the president and repeat the oath of loyalty. He’d walked away instantly attacked by the Prophet’s men. Lydia had followed him yelling at the rough treatment. Her only crime was trying to befriend Daniel. Both were exiled from the beautiful new capital and sent to the dissident prison at Leavenworth.
What had he done? First the loss of their work and life in the City of Gold, then prison in Leavenworth, and now recapture? He held his head in his hands, feeling totally defeated. Oh God, he whispered, where are You now? Did You bring us so far to abandon us?
The patrol leader re-entered followed by a strange man dressed in khakis and a navy sweater. His face was weathered and he appeared to be in his early sixties. Salt-and-pepper hair framed steel gray eyes.
This is my friend, Ben Whitaker,
said the patrol leader. He’s the director of Maranatha Village.
What was happening? Who was this border patrol?
You aren’t taking us in custody?
said Daniel.
No, son, we’re the Canadian River Patrol. We save as many as we can. Ben here said to keep an eye open for you. The folks at Liberty Farm sent a message alerting him. We weren’t sure it was you until we scanned you.
A concerned smile filled Ben’s face. He didn’t think any of those they’d rescued had looked as bad as these two young people. He reached out his hand. Come with me. How does a shower and some good food sound to you?
Ben was the director of the dissident village? They weren’t returning to prison? Overcome, Daniel put his arms around his friend. We made it, Lydia. We made it.
Chapter Two
B en pointed to a battered Ford Escape. Climb in. The village is only a few miles.
Daniel and Lydia tried to relax. Lydia still gripped Daniel’s hand. The SUV bumped along a dirt road parallel to the river, finally turning into a pine forest. A few miles down the road, a rusty gate stretched across the road. Ben climbed out of the car and unlocked the gate. The heavy chain clanged loudly as it dropped to the ground.
Was this just another prison of sorts? Daniel wondered. What kind of life could they have in a camp for dissidents?
Ben read their anxiety. Life’s a little different here than on the outside. Most of the residents came to us as homeless people who refused to take the number to buy and sell. They had no way to work, no way to pay bills, no way to travel. Maranatha Village is a safe island for them. I think you’ll find things you can’t find in America anymore—kindness and caring. I hope you feel comfortable about being with us.
Ben pulled up outside what appeared to be a log office building. A flagpole flew two flags: the Canadian maple leaf and a blue flag with a dove on it. Daniel reached in his pocket and pulled out the white stone his Grandpa George had given him before he died. Daniel carried it as a remembrance of his grandparents. He rubbed his fingers across the carving of a white dove, the exact image on the flag, then, handed the stone to Lydia. Her mouth dropped open. It’s the same.
Grandpa’s pastor in Michigan must have known about the dissident village. Perhaps that was why Grandpa included it in the items he left Daniel. He held the stone out to Ben.
Yes, it’s Maranatha’s peace sign. All are welcome; all are safe here.
The trio entered the cabin where a log fire offered warmth. Sit down and let me get you some water. I’ll take you to supper after you’ve had a chance to shower.
The door slammed and a young woman entered the cabin. Oh, I’m sorry, Ben. I’ll catch you later.
No, Sydney, you can help me now. Could you get these two a set of dry clothes from your stash?
Sydney sized up Daniel and Lydia. Sure, I guess. I was on my way to supper. What size shoes do you wear?
she asked.
I wear a 7½,
said Lydia. And size four jeans.
And you?
she pointed to Daniel.
A 10½ shoe, 30-inch waist.
Ben spoke up. I’m sorry, Sydney. Let me introduce you. This is Daniel and Lydia. The River Patrol just found them.
He looked over at Daniel and explained. Sydney runs our clothing store.
Sydney turned to leave. So these were the two senators from the City of Gold the village had been asked to pray for. They looked dirty and miserable but she had little sympathy for them. Living in the City of Gold was a privilege. Only the elite got to be part of it…the Council of Twelve, governors, the president and vice president, and the Youth Council. Spoiled and privileged. She reached the store and quickly selected a handful of clothes.
Heading back to Ben’s office, she deposited the clothes in a pile on a chair. Help yourself. I hope they fit.
She turned and left for supper.
Don’t mind Sydney,
Ben said. She has a good heart. She’s never gotten over leaving her design school in New York City. It was her dream.
Ben checked the map of his cabins looking for a bed for Daniel and Lydia. Lydia, I have a bed in Cabin 8. Mrs. McGinty is the housemother and…you’ve already met one of the girls. Sydney lives in that cabin. Daniel, let’s see, there’s a bed in No. 11.
Ben rose from his chair and opened a pine cupboard from which he gathered some supplies for each…sheets, pillows, blankets, and a bag of personal items for showering.
Come back after you shower and I’ll take you to dinner. They serve for a couple of hours.
Ben looked down at his Bible. I wish I had a Bible to give you but we have so few…we try to see that each cabin has one.
We’re okay, Ben. My grandpa left me one. It’s the only thing that survived our trip.
Well, off you go. See you in about a half hour.
***
Daniel and Lydia climbed the wooded hill. Log cabins dotted the slopes, each identified with a large number. Arriving at Cabin 8, Lydia said good-bye to Daniel who continued on to Cabin 11.
Pushing the door open he was greeted by a friendly slap on the back. You must be the new guy. Name’s Tim. The showers are around the corner to the left. Just pick a bed without a sheet and a cubby that’s empty for your stuff. Good to have you! See you at dinner.
The cabins were primitive. No electronics, a fireplace for heat, an old blue denim couch, and a couple of chairs that looked like their springs were shot. But Daniel was thankful. He undressed and climbed into the shower. Rivulets of dirty water rolled off him. The soap left red marks on his skin. Did they make their own soap here? He’d been in a technological world so long, he had no idea how you made soap.
He shook the moisture from his hair and decided a clean shave would feel good. His beard was matted with bugs and small stones imbedded when they came across country on the motorcycle. A shower never felt so good! He put on the clothes Sydney provided, noting the pants were loose. No matter. He laced up some tennis shoes and headed back down the incline to Lydia’s cabin. She was waiting outside.
I feel like a new person, Danny. You look handsome. The beard is gone.
And…the bugs.
His eyes twinkled. Do you miss the beard?
Lydia laughed. It’d been a very long time since she’d felt like laughing. It felt good.
You look pretty, princess. I especially like the rustic look.
Lydia blushed. Sydney had brought her the ugliest pair of brown hiking boots she’d ever seen, but they were dry and warm, and that’s all that counted. The village was not a high-fashion place.
Ben waited for them, sitting on the wraparound porch surrounded by old handmade rockers. Daniel noticed that when he got up to join them, he steadied himself on the arm of the rocker. His first steps limped.
Getting a little arthritis, I’m afraid. Trying to grow old gracefully.
The trio sauntered to the mess hall. Above the weather-beaten door a sign read Chow Inn. A kind of all-purpose room with a kitchen,
said Ben.
The initials of hundreds of children who’d attended the old camp covered the walls. Hand-hewn pine tables made from the forest stood on top of ancient plank floors while shutters covered the windows.
Drawn by the odors of stew and dumplings, the trio joined the buffet line. Lydia and Daniel watched as Ben pulled off a tray and filled a large bowl.
It’s our last of the garden stew…one of my favorites,
said Ben. The ladies put everything left in the garden, plus a contribution from the hunters. Help yourselves.
After the meal, Ben walked around the center of the camp with them. Passing a cabin, Lydia asked, Sir, what’s that cabin?
Ben chuckled. "Our clothing co-op, Acts 4:32. The name’s taken from a verse in the book of Acts… ‘the believers were of one heart and soul, and…everything they owned was held in common.’ Tomorrow, come by and let Sydney help you find a few outfits. I think you’ll be surprised."
As they passed a volleyball court, Ben stopped. We have lots of activities. You young people need to get into the volleyball playoffs. Right now it’s Men 3–Women 3. The playoffs are on Saturday.
The fall evening turned cool. A light breeze blew through the pines. Danny, can you smell that. It smells just like the candles my mom used for Hanukkah.
Ben encouraged them to explore the camp. Attend breakfast in the morning, afterwards, come by so we can discuss how the camp runs and see how you fit.
He put his arm around each of their shoulders. We’re so glad you’re here with us.
Chapter Three
R evived by the wonderful home-cooked meal, the two strolled around the compound checking out other areas. Lydia forced the door open to a small chapel built of boulders. Inside a rustic wooden cross went floor to ceiling. A stained-glass window on each side of the cabin provided the only light. Lydia studied the windows: Jesus with a small sheep stood knocking at a door on one; the second window showed him holding a little child on his lap. Do you think this lovely chapel is ever used?
she said, brushing cobwebs off the log pews.
I don’t know, honey.
They left the chapel walking further into the woods. Old-fashioned wooden climbing bars, a worn teeter-totter, and a couple of swings drew their attention to what appeared